


Chaos Theory

by InvisibleLee



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: How Do I Tag, M/M, Other, Slow Burn, its gonna get funny and awkward fast, ya'll im excited
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2019-06-26 10:46:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15661659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InvisibleLee/pseuds/InvisibleLee
Summary: Connor's been gone for over a year from Detroit. So much has changed, and still are changing, but if one thing is still true, it's Connor's love of the city, the life he once lived. He returns in hopes of starting a more normal life. But who said it would ever be easy?





	1. Chapter 1

One year, two months, six days. That’s how long it’d been since Connor had seen this skyline. Been in the streets of Detroit that he remembered so well, so frequently. There’d been an ache in his chest for so  _ long _ as he waited for this moment. He drove himself into the city now ― one of the better upsides of gaining his freedom as an android, in his own opinion. He didn’t have to wait on someone else to appear, some taxi to take him place to place. Indeed, a licence had been his first request of Markus when they began to make headway with the negotiations. 

Things had changed quite a bit in the last year. There had been a lot of progress made, since the start. There were still a lot of things that they were fighting for, but Connor figured that Markus was well-established enough that Connor wasn’t really needed anymore. He’d primarily acted for the group’s safety ― his impeccable capabilities for pre-constructing situations and his programmed design to spot things another would ordinarily miss made him perfect for the job. He was good at it, he felt useful and Markus, North, and Josh had all been grateful when he’d proved his worth more than once in getting them out of sticky situations.

But if one thing was still true, it was his desire to return to the city he’d promised he would. Detroit had been his beginning, had been his home, despite anything wrong that had occurred here. He’d talked it over with Markus and the others several times before this, describing his desire to return and settle back in. They had been reluctant since the start ― Detroit had been where the whole revolution went down, and there were many humans holding them responsible for downfalls. Detroit was a dangerous place, but Connor argued that it always had been. It wasn’t until it had been several months since the last attack on Markus that they were willing to let him go. And even then, it'd been a fight to convince them. Connor was known amongst humans and other androids, especially those in Detroit, and they were just trying to be cautious, trying to protect him, in a sense. It had filled him with a new kind of warmth, one he'd rarely felt. It was nice to be cared for, he'd decided. 

Connor stared into the city, craning his neck to look at it all, as if in the time span he was away, everything had changed. Really, there wasn't much of a difference. But he hadn't experienced the city in the early spring, and seeing things bloom into life was enough to have him enraptured. He adored the weather changes, and he had notebooks detailing research and observations of it. He couldn't see the once-glaring  _ NO ANDROIDS _ signs that used to be out and open. It was a very nice change. Realistically, he knew prejudice still existed. He knew there would still be challenges here, he'd seen them during his travels. But something about being back here made him feel  _ safer _ somehow.

He pulled into the parking lot of the small apartment building he was to be renting from. It was a temporary set-up, thanks to Markus, and the money he'd given him. He'd tried to decline the offers, but Markus had insisted. He just needed to confirm with the owner in the office, get his key, and hand over the other half of his deposit, covering his first month. It was easy and secure, and everything was falling in line. It sent a sort of thrill of pride through him that he would be caring for himself. He would be alone, which was certainly new, but he would be independent. It was nice.

He opened the door and climbed out, and he felt for his wallet --- it was tucked away simply in the front pocket of his slacks. Despite all the changes, his wardrobe was still at the very least semi-formal. He liked the style of it. He locked the car and paced towards the entrance of the building.

Someone came out before he could get inside, and, purely from habit, he scanned the man's face, determining his identity with ease. CyberLife might have been shut down, but Connor's link to the extensive government files had not. The man was Rick Patterson, the man he was meant to meet. It took the other a moment to recognize him. Connor still held on to his tell-tale LED. Markus and North had both tried to convince him to leave it behind, but he claimed it was too much a part of him. He didn't want to leave it. He was glad to have it now.

“Ah, Mr. Connor! I was hoping to catch you.”

“Mr. Patterson, pleasure meeting you.”

Connor stretched out his hand, and Rick hesitated before shaking it in earnest. Or perhaps nervous enthusiasm.

“You said you wanted to catch me?” Connor prompted, after a moment of silence.

“Ah! Yes, see … terrible thing, really, but the last occupants who were meant to be out by the time you got here, well, they've changed their mind. I can refund you the first half of your deposit, of course, but I'm afraid I don't have any space.”

Connor's light expression remained in place. He glanced around, and he watched Rick fidget in front of him. He gave a hum, arms crossed in such a human gesture that it was clearly unnerving to the other. 

“That's not true, is it, Mr. Patterson? You just don't wish to house an android, in spite of the new legislation requiring a business such as yourself to cater to us, as well.”

His voice was still calm, held no hostility or anger, but the man before him paled as if he'd threatened his life. Rick licked his lips in a nervous tick.

“N-no, of course not! Just --- listen, you gotta understand, man, the other tenants won't have it. It'll be the end’a me, you know?”

Connor merely sighed, arms dropping so he could adjust his shirt a little. The navy button up wasn't wrinkled in the least, but he did the action out of habit.

“Alright. The refund, then, please. I'll find something else.”

The man sighed and smiled, like Connor had just relieved him of some overbearing weight on his shoulders. He hurried back into the building, promising to return with the other three hundred dollars. Connor waited patiently on the sidewalk, already scanning the city in search of options. 

He could stay at a hotel, temporarily. Until he found a more permanent solution. The rate was fifty dollars a night, though, so he'd only be set for maybe a couple weeks. And that's not including any gas he might need to afford, and if something else fell through, he'd eventually be evicted from the room.

He could park the car in some long-term parking spot, stay there. It would be uncomfortable, sure, but he could keep his money set for what he  _ needed _ and save it until he found a permanent spot. It wasn't favorable, but then, his one favorable option had just pulled the rug right out from under him.

He could repeat the kind of thing he'd seen Kara do, way back when. But he really didn't want to resort to breaking into places, it really wasn't something he could justify to himself. But it was an option, and he knew it.

Or. He could call someone. Someone he relied on, believed in, who believed in  _ him. _ He'd already looked into him, made sure he was still out and about. He'd been worried. But nothing new had happened, he had no criminal record, still. He supposed that was something. He could potentially ask for a favor. He could offer payment to him, even, and he could certainly help with chores and more. 

It was his best option, for as much he didn't want to use it. It was only logical that he try that one first.

Rick returned with a small envelope in hand, and he passed it over with another grateful expression. Connor counted out the money, nodded in satisfaction.

“Thank you.”

“No, thank  _ you. _ I hope you find something. I'm still … “

“Yeah, yeah. Bye.”

Connor was a bit short with his goodbye, as he climbed back into the car. He plopped the envelope on the passenger seat and watched in dismay as Rick went back into the building.

“Shit.” 

He muttered the curse under his breath, leaning back into his seat. He ran a hand through his hair. This was just not his day, it seemed. He couldn't tell Markus what had happened --- he'd rain down on the man with his passive anger, which would do more damage than if he just threatened the guy. And despite everything, Connor couldn't bring himself to wish such an end to his career.

_ Bite the bullet already, Connor. What's the worst that can happen?  _

Internal thoughts like such were new, and he hated them. Stupid, logical mind.

On the glowing screen on the console, Connor brought up the phone option. As he pulled back out of the parking lot, he entered the phone number he needed and pressed to dial. It rang.

“Five times and I hang up.” 

The promise to himself was mumbled as he drove.

Second ring.

This was silly. He could manage, surely. No need to be a bother. And he maybe needed to get his thirium pump checked --- it vibrated uncomfortably quick in his chest.  _ Anxiety _ , his mind supplied. But surely not. He'd never been anxious in all his life. 

Third ring.

No, that wasn't true. He'd been anxious to leave for Detroit. Markus and everyone had pointed out exactly how anxious he'd been in the weeks leading up to this. Since Markus had approved it, he'd started fidgeting twice as much, looked distracted often, and was more easily startled. The only time he was fully engrossed in what he was doing was when he was present at Markus’ public speakings. He couldn't take chances.

Fourth ring.

He could feel his hopes falling, even though he hadn't intended to have any. It was late, of course, coming up on eight. The time of year had the sun slowly sinking below the horizon, casting darker hues along the sky. He might have been sleeping. He wanted to think that was the case, and not the more obvious one.

Fifth---

“ _ Shit _ , ow --- hello?”


	2. Chapter 2

   The voice almost seemed to stop the pulse of thirium, stopped his _heart_ , for lack of better words. He idled at a stop sign, shocked, until he realized he hadn't responded.  
  
    “Oh, uh. Hello, lieu- er. Hank. Hi.”

    God. He hadn’t used to sound so uncertain, but ever since deviating, the verbal pauses had developed. Markus claimed it was his tell for when he was nervous --- especially when he tried approaching him to discuss his eventual return to Detroit. Even his generaal vocabulary had lessened over time, becoming more casual. Connor had found it was easier to talk comfortably with other humans if he didn’t use extended language. _Keep it simple_ , Markus had recommended. He wondered if Hank was surprised to hear him sound so different.

    There was a beat of terrible silence, and Connor wondered if maybe Hank had hung up and his end just hadn't caught on. Maybe he shouldn't have used his first name? But it didn't seem appropriate to use his work title when they no longer worked together.

    “Connor?”

     His name was spoken quietly, in a tone of disbelief that Connor quickly took shame for. He should have kept better contact. Maybe this wouldn't have hurt so much.

    “Ah, yes. It's me, Connor.”

    It was almost hard to say. Part of him wished he was a better liar to the man. But he never had been too terribly talented at hiding things from _him._

    “Oh. Uh. Well, hey. Sorry I almost missed you, was out with Sumo. Left the damn phone in the house, almost died gettin’ to it.”

    Connor couldn't help the laugh that left him at the mental image of Hank scrambling to get to his phone, tripping and tumbling in the process.

    “Laughin’ at me, are you? You try it, and we'll see who's laughing then.” He sounded only just barely serious, more amused than anything. “Either way, uh, what made you call? Thought Markus still had a few months of tourin’ to do?”

    Connor had almost entirely forgotten his purpose for calling, he'd so quickly gotten wrapped up in the moment of speaking to his old partner.

    “Right. Well, I'd told you I'd come back to Detroit, didn't I? It took a while to convince Markus they didn't need me very much there, I'm no use with the politics of things, but --- ”

    “Wait. You mean … you're back in town? Why'd you wanna come back here, Connor? You gotta know it's still pretty bad down here.”

    “Well, if I didn't before, I sure do now.” A beat of silence again. “ … Hank?”

    “I'm here. What do you mean by that?”

    “Nothing to worry about.”

    “Don't pull that bullshit, Connor, what happened?” Hank's voice held a note of heat, defensive. It made Connor smile, if only briefly. There was a honk from behind him. He hadn't moved. He resumed driving down the road.

    “Alright, alright. I did have an apartment set up to stay in, but the owner pulled on the offer last minute; the other tenants didn't want an android living in their building, it seems. He gave me a refund, but now I'm out of a place.”

    “That's such _shit_ , there's law against that fuckin’ stuff. Who was it, I can send in a report---”

    “Don't! It's _fine_ , Hank, really. He didn't mind, but he'd have lost business. It's not a big deal, and I don't want to turn it into one.”

    There was a heavy sigh from Hank's end, and Connor could tell the man was reluctantly resigned.

    “Fine. Got anywhere else to be? There's a few motels I know accept androids.”

    This was the moment, it seemed. Deep breath, Connor. The worst he could do was say _no._

    “Well, I … I only have so much money with me, and I don't know how easy it will be to find a job. If I'm lucky, I can stick around a couple weeks at a hotel, but the cheapest is fifty a night, and that's … not very comforting.”

    Hank swore on the other end, but Connor plowed on.

    “I was actually calling about all that. I, uh. I was wondering if you'd be willing to house me for a little bit. Just until I can settle back into a job, get a place ready. I don't take up much space, I don't have to sleep or eat, after all. I've only got four suitcases, no personal effects, you know. And it'd only be for two, three weeks, tops.”

    There was silence, and Connor waited a moment. He was chewing on his lip, another fidget he'd developed. After a few moments, he backtracked.

    “Of course, you don't _have_ to, I'm capable of finding another way around. I'll be alright, thank you for even thinking about ---”

    “Connor, stop rambling, for fuck’s sake. I just needed a second to process. You're welcome here, you know that. I can pick you up from wherever you are, but I gotta hurry if I'm gonna be in bed on time.”

    There was a grin on the android's face that he couldn't hold back, though it didn't matter --- Hank couldn't see it anyway. But it was there.

    “No need. I’m driving myself and am heading your way now. I should be there in roughly ten minutes.”

    “No shit, you can drive now?”

    “It was one of the first things I attempted once rights were on their way, yes. It is very relaxing, I must say. I've been driving since … ” He glanced at the dashboard for the time. “Noon yesterday, I think.”

    “Fuck, Connor, you gotta be exhausted.”

    “I'm being careful, but a hibernation couldn’t hurt, chance to cool the systems, relax. I'll worry about it later.”

    “Alright, yeah. Want me to get anything ready for you, I don't know if you … need somethin’ specific, or …?”

    Connor gave a light laugh. “Don't worry yourself. I could do it anywhere I needed, it’s similar to a shut-down, minus the finality. I could use a docking station tomorrow, even."

    “You mean those bus stop things people used to shove you all in to wait?”

    “Essentially. They are still in function for convenience, now. In a sense, they're places we can _nap,_ as you might call it.”

    “Fuckin’ weird. But no, don't do that, you just do it at home. Probably more comfortable that way. I'm gonna let you drive --- gotta clean myself up a bit if you're comin’ over.”

    “Alright. See you soon.”

    A sound of agreement from the human before the call ended, and Connor focused more of his attention to the road. If he sped up a little, he could cut the time in half, at least.

    He grinned as he gunned the engine.

* * *

     Pulling into the driveway of Hank's home was like seeing an old friend, and not necessarily just because he was doing just that. Seeing the little structure, having remained unchanged, felt familiar. Settling back into an old routine, like. It was soothing Connor's nerves, even when his gaze moved to the door, which was opening.

     Alright. Deep breath. This was fine. _He_ was fine. He put the car into park, eased off the break. Turned the key out of the slot and cut the engine. He'd searched for one of the cars built to look like the past. It had been his way of maintaining his memories of this place. It wasn't Hank's old clunker, but it was old enough. The only modern settings were that Connor could hook his systems into it for better signal for radios and control of the vehicle. With a final self-prep moment, Connor opened the car door and slid out, shutting it gently. Locking it and turning his full attention to the front porch.

    Hank was standing there. Connor half expected him to shout at him, tell him to hurry up, but he merely waited for Connor to approach. He could hear Sumo bark once or twice before settling. Connor could hear the thirium rushing through his body, it seemed, as he made his way up the walkway, to stand a few steps down. Looking up at the man who was welcoming him back to the city.

    His hair was pulled back, a thing Connor had never seen. The silver locks were longer, but they looked healthier, too, even if a little frizzy. Perhaps from the humidity. His face wasn't as tense, his expression was relaxed. There was a clear lack of sleeplessness to him, Connor realized. He looked _good._ Better, Connor would venture to say. It was … _reassuring._ He couldn't smell alcohol from where he stood, and that was an even better realization. And he couldn't help but notice the slight change in the man's frame. Like he'd worked to get a little more _fit._ Toned himself up, not a lot, he certainly still had a fair bit of weight to him, but enough to be a little healthier.

    He looked _great_.

    Hank was looking over Connor, and he very well knew it. He stood still, breathing evenly, relaxed. Or trying to be. He tugged a little on his pant leg, out of nervousness. It had been so very long. He wondered what Hank thought of him now, to see him. He hadn't changed physically himself, except his clothes. He fidgeted under the older man's gaze for a moment, worried.

    Hank grinned, and it was like a weight fell from his shoulders.

    “Lookin’ spiffy, Connor, what's the occasion?”

    Connor chuckled, and he found himself putting his hands in his pockets.

    “Figured it'd be a good idea to come looking nice. Start the job hunt right away.”

    “Job hunt?”

    “Yes. I'll need to find something quickly. I should be out of your hair in a few weeks, if I can.”

    Hank scratched at the back of his neck for a moment. Glanced at Connor up and down, before finally stepping down.

    “Right, well. It's good to have you back, Connor. Here. In town, I mean.”

    The quick backtrack wasn't missed by the android, but he didn't look too much into it. Hank looked conflicted for a moment, but it didn't last long, because Hank finally came a little closer, drawing the other into a loose embrace.

    It wasn't quite like their last couple of hugs. His first hug had been with Hank, admittedly. It had been after the revolution, when he'd met him just outside of that unhealthy food truck Hank liked to frequent. That had been a moment of pride between them both, of relief and triumph. It had all the warmth Connor had never felt before, and all the warmth he would crave to have back the moment he left.

    His last hug with the man had been before his departure with Markus. It had been maybe a month after the end of the events in Detroit, and Connor had tried to keep his goodbye short. The memory played in his head for a moment.

 

_“What do you mean, you're leaving? I thought all this revolution stuff wasn't your thing!” Hank said, disbelief on his face and something else in his voice that Connor couldn't name._

_“I know what I said, Lieutenant. But Markus needs me. I can be of some use, somehow, they say. And if I can be, I would certainly like to try.”_

_“We aren't at work, my name is Hank, you know. But. Fine. How long will you be gone?”_

_“The estimated time of arrival to each destination varies, there's no real way of predicting.”_

_“Fucking predict it anyway.”_

_Connor averted his eyes a moment._

_“A year and a half, give or take a few months, I believe.”_

_“No.”_

_“Markus wants to spend some time in each place.”_

_“Can't he find someone else to be his damned bodyguard?”_

_“I am the most qualified for the position. Part of my programming is combat and situation prevention, as you know.”_

_Hank grumbled under his breath. They were standing outside of Hank's home, and there was a car waiting for Connor. Hank glanced at it with no hidden disdain._

_“Guess that's it then, huh?”_

_The way he said it alarmed Connor to some degree. He hesitated a moment._

_“I will return here, when I can. I will try.”_

_The car beeped impatiently, drawing Connor's gaze._

_The moment Connor turned back to Hank, he was being drawn into a hug. It was something they didn't do too often, though Connor had said in the past that he quite enjoyed them. But this one was different. There was a tension to it, a weight Connor couldn't explain. It was tight, but almost suffocatingly so._

_Hank was holding him as he'd never see him again, Connor realized._

_He squeezed the other man in return, head resting on his shoulder a moment._

_“I will come back to Detroit, Hank. I promise.” He spoke softly, but Hank nodded, indicating he heard. He chuckled softly, though it sounded a bit forced, even as Hank slowly let him go._

_“I'm holding you to it, you know.”_

_Connor smiled, and he pretended not to see Hank wiping at his eyes._

_“See you later.”_

_“See you later.”_

_And Connor had gotten in the car, staring back at the little house as the distance tore a bigger and bigger hole in his metaphorical heart._

 

    And now, Connor felt his knees buckling beneath him, and he was leaning into the hug almost the whole way. Hank staggered for a second, startled.

    “Connor? The fuck’s wrong?”

    He pulled back, holding Connor steady by the shoulders. Connor blinked, surprise on his own face. Something was sliding down his face, leaving trails of wetness. He reached up to touch the substance.

    He was crying. When had that happened?

    “Connor? Are you … what happened?”

    A smile split Connor's face, and he laughed weakly.

    “I'm happy. I'm happy to be _home_ , Hank. I missed it. I missed Detroit, I missed the nature here. I missed the food I can't eat, and the coffee I can't drink. I missed the apartment I used to use.”

    His voice was choked, but he was smiling so wide, Connor thought his artificial skin might snap.

    “I missed _you_ , Hank, and Sumo, and your home. And I'm here, I'm _finally_ back, and I'm just …”

    Hank was pulling him back in for a hug that Connor clung too, only just loose enough so as not to suffocate the man.

    “I'm _so happy._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! It's been forever but I started rereading my ideas here and everything about it motivated me so!! Chapter Two is here and more is coming soon!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor and Hank have a not-so-fun conversation, and Connor realizes how much is different.

    After Connor’s slightly embarrassing emotional moment and several discomforted mumblings from Hank, who struggled to hold him up, Connor found himself sitting on a couch new to him in the living room, hands brushing through the fur of the large dog settling next to him on the soft cushions. His gaze was traveling the renovated home interior -- it had changed drastically inside rather than out. Cleaned carpets, previously broken things fixed. New televisions, cleaned kitchen and dusted books. He spotted the picture of Hank’s son in proud view and remembered the last time he saw it with a small smile.

    Hank had locked the door and caught himself watching the android. The  _ new _ Connor, he thought. A more relaxed one, he could tell. The android was actually leaning into the couch for once, rather than standing around somewhere and awaiting instruction or trying to save Hank from himself. He knew he was fidgeting a little where he stood. Wondering what the other might say, If he would be uneasy or not. But Connor said nothing, and instead quietly met his gaze and smiled. Hank blinked, looking away quickly.

    Hank cleared his throat awkwardly, mumbled something about drinks, and disappeared into kitchen, only just missing the snickering laughter that followed. 

    Connor was left to his own devices, Sumo having subsided to lay contentedly at the android’s feet. He could feel the nerves rolling through his system. A sense of restlessness. He felt himself fidgeting, and his hands sought out the small coin in his pocket. The reminder of the years prior, of his old habits irritating the man, made him smile. Rubbing the pads of his fingers over the worn metal, he breathed slower.

    He accessed his inner mind.

    He could remember when the garden had been so meticulously kept, seemingly tended to by the rendition of Amanda programmed with him. But now, it was free to flourish, and he himself tended to each internal flower, bush, and plant. It was a method of relaxing that many others didn’t have. In the beginning, it had been destroyed, overgrown, when he first discovered he still had the feature. He was far from done, but it was a long work in progress. Right now, there was sun sparkling through clouds, and birds singing from the branches of the large trees. He hummed quietly to himself ---

    “Connor!”

    His eyes snapped open with a gasp and a jolt of surprise. He nearly shot up from the couch, but he stilled himself. Hank peered at him, holding a glass of water in his hand, looking slightly more startled than the android himself.

    “Sorry, did you say something?”

    “What were you doin’, Connor, shit. Never seen you jump before.”

    The other chuckled a little, the coin in his palm hidden from view. “Just daydreaming, I suppose.” 

    “That’s new, but I haven’t really kept up with all that fancy upgrade stuff.” Hank grunted and held out the cup. Connor blinked at it, and Hank coughed. “Oh, uh, right, you don’t …”

    But Connor took the glass and drank from it, the entire contents of the glassware disappearing as he chugged it down, gasping to regain breath a moment later. The older man looked surprised, and Connor gave a little smile, handing the glass back.

    “Apparently we’ve always been able to eat and drink. It’s fun to try now. Strange, of course.”

    “Strange, right. More or … ?”

    “I’m okay. Never thought you to be this hospitable.” Connor grinned at him, teasing gently. He was throwing the man for a loop, and he knew it. It was amusing to watch his expression as he scrambled to acclimate to this … new version of himself. Considering the last time they’d seen each other, he had been much less openly emotional and much less casual. Still a working, focused android that … had some issue coming to full terms with how deviance and freedom affected him. But now he chatted normally, fit it more humanly than he once did. His LED remained in place as the only real marking of his branding, something he wore with ease, despite it all.

    “Looks like we’ve all changed,” Hank returned. He was still standing upright, shifting feet a little, awkward, Connor recognized. “So, uh. How was the tour thing? Finally decided it wasn’t your style?”

    “Are you going to sit down? You’re making me all nervous, like I shouldn’t be sitting.” It didn’t exactly help that with all the blinds open and windows down for the springtime, the sun was bright, and Connor nearly felt as though he really didn’t belong in here. But he would get used to the changes. He could feel the gentle, cool breezes drifting in, and without the clutter around, it was a nice home to relax in. 

    “Oh, shut up. It’s weird having you back, all … you know what I mean.” Hank settled on the couch, facing the android directly. 

    “Free and stuff?”

    “You said it that way.”

    “Yeah, I know. Did you watch any of the news?” Connor inquired. He tugged his legs up underneath himself. He could remember sitting like this the first time, feeling … safer somehow. It was a more relaxed posture that he enjoyed now.   
  
    “Not really, I got … busy, I guess.”

    “That’s new. In a good or bad way?”  
  
    Hank weighed the question, head tilted. “Eh, I guess you could say it was a good thing. Whatever, tell me … uh. Well, whatever you want, I guess.”

    “I mean, there isn’t much to tell. I never did any talking, I just sort of stood in the back and watched the crowd. Markus is good with words.” Hank raised a brow.  
  
    “And you were good with that? Standing there doing pretty much nothing? Sounds pretty boring.”  
  
    “It was what they needed me for.”

    “Must have been in some accidents, then, if they needed you for so long?” There was a little heat building here that Connor was starting to pick up on --- and he didn’t like it. His hand gripped at one of his hidden feet, and his other hand rubbed the coin in his palm for comfort.

    “Well,  _ yes _ , of course. It wasn’t without its risk.” He turned his head away and rolled his shoulders a little. “You know how things were, still. Especially in the big cities.”

    “Yeah? Heard you came through Chicago half-through.” Connor let out a silent breath --- the visit through had been kept quieter, especially since it had been for only a few hours. But on request from Connor himself. That had been a year and two months ago. He had been gone for a whole two years.

    “Markus wanted to make a quick visit, I wasn’t ---”

    “Sure you weren’t.” There was a bitter tone there that Connor hadn’t expected.

    “How did you know?”  
  
    “You’re not the only one who has big contacts, you know.” Connor kept his gaze away from the human man before him, who seemed to be staring burning holes into him. Demanding answers, he knew. It meant Markus had told him. Because of course Connor had told the leader of his group his plans to meet Hank. To make amends, to get in contact again. 

    “I … know you showed up. I was there.”  
  
    “I know. Markus told me after. Why did you chicken out? You know I was holding you to your words.” Hank’s voice was so firm, lacking in any kind of alcohol to blame the burning words on. This was a real conversation about real emotions, and he wasn’t sure what to do.

    “ … I’m here now, does it really matter?” This got a huff of disbelief in response, and Hank shook his head.

    “I guess not.” There was a long moment of silence of both. Connor made no effort to look at the man, and the other had his eyes closed. Connor could feel the tension, and he hated it. He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t tell him the truth … but what lie would make it better? 

    “Whatever, you’re right. Past is past.” The words coming from the detective made Connor blink, staring at him. Hank, letting this go? “So what’s your plan, then?” 

    “Plan? Oh. Right, well … I need to find a place to stay and get everything settled here. Get a job, gather some money. I had something set up, but everything has … kind of fallen through so far. But a couple weeks, based on statistics, I should be getting there.” Hank nodded.  
  
    “As far as I’m concerned, you’re welcome here until you’re on your feet.”

    “It really should only be a couple weeks---”

    “Connor. Shut up. You aren’t a stranger.”

    “I ---” There was a sudden ringing that cut Connor off. Hank scrunched his nose and stood, moving to the kitchen to pick it up. Connor could hear every word, if he wanted to, but he muted his own hearing to avoid eavesdropping. Even if he hadn't done so, his mind was far too focused on processing what just happened. Since when had Hank been so confrontational about something making him upset? It was something Connor hoped to avoid, and he'd never had suspicion that Hank had known his plan. He just figured the man still ate at the Chicken Feed, and had assumed to be right that day, when he laid eyes on the very man who'd encouraged him to deviate in the end …

    When Hank returned, he headed for his coat rack, sliding on a jacket. “Sorry, Connor, but I just got called into a case --- I’m still at the DPD, you know.” The words stuck with Connor, though he tried to dismiss them. Hank was looking at him almost expectantly.

    “You comin’?”

    “I am not employed there anymore, you know. I’m sure you’re boss wouldn’t be happy.”  
  
    “Ah, right. Well, make yourself at home, there’s plenty of food it you want any. Be back sometime.”

    The door shut behind the New Hank and Connor was left blinking at the wood. He expected  _ some _ changes, sure, but this was more than he ever anticipated. He knew he himself had made some leaps and bounds, but he was at least more human in his own sense. Now, there seemed to be no easy indication on how to react to the other man. 

    But here was an opportunity to try and learn as much as he could. He had plenty of time on his hand, and if one thing had never changed, it was how …  _ snoopy _ he could be, as North had once described him. So he stood and began to wander.

    The kitchen was as clean as he had first noticed. A new set of appliances in, and a cleared off table. Rather than the old clutter of papers and plates, bottles and more, there was a centerpiece in the middle. The counters were cleaned, had even been redone. A new refrigerator. There were some leftovers, but most of the food seemed to be made at home, rather than as much takeout as there once was. He did see a carton of Chinese rice and more chicken, but there only seemed to be one. He had to wonder what made the man change his ways. It seemed so new. So sudden. But he had to suppose that two years was quite some time, even if it did not seem so to himself.

    There were plants around he didn’t completely notice the first time. Some were fake --- the more exotic-looking ones. But there were some flowers around that seemed well-taken care of, or else a little lacking, though not dead. He took it upon himself to water these flowers and groom them a little, to be rid of dying buds. 

    He peered into the other rooms of the home briefly --- more clean than they used to be, although Hank’s room was still victim to some clutter. Connor did a small run-through, putting dirty clothing in the laundry basket, creasing the sloppily-made bed. Otherwise, the room was nicely kept.

    There were picture frames on both side tables. One was a copy of the same picture proudly on display in the living room, of his son. And the other was surprising. It was a picture of Connor. It was not a picture of him and the detective, but one taken of him from a newspaper clipping. He remembered it, too. The first stage that Markus and himself had been on. The android and human crowd mixing, cheering. A protest in the background.

    He sat on Hank’s bed, careful not to wrinkle the covers, taking the framed photo in his hands.

 

_     The speech had gone wonderfully. The police in the ares were doing a decent job maintaining the protest happening through the live coverage. But once the cameras shut off, the yelling became louder. And suddenly, the protesting crowds pushed hard against the lines of protection, and there was the sound of gunshots. _

_     Connor jumped from his position to stand before Markus within seconds, and there was a tearing, searing pain in his arm and even lower chest as he used himself to protect the other. He shouted over the sounds of the conflict, refusing to fall to his injuries, forcing Markus back, North helping to pull him away. Connor remained on the stage, ushering the crowd of supportive fans away through safe spots. Blue blood leaked from his wounds, and he found it hard to fully function, but he had a job.  _

_     He returned to Markus, North, and the others, and once through the protected building’s doors, he felt his knees buckle, and everything went black. _

 

    He couldn’t remember how bad it all was. He remembered being told he had gotten lucky, but he hadn’t cared much. Markus had been grateful, and though concerned, Connor had simply been glad he’d been fast enough. 

    He took a deep breath, set the picture back down on the table, and headed back for the living room. Maybe it was time to take a brief charging nap


End file.
